


You're Hiding From Me

by Consulted_moriarty



Category: BLURRYFACE - Twenty One Pilots (Album), Twenty One Pilots
Genre: M/M, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-05
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-18 07:26:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5905618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Consulted_moriarty/pseuds/Consulted_moriarty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Josh recollects on memories, too stuck in the past to see the events unfolding in the future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Blurryface's Creation

**Author's Note:**

> [ There will be more chapters! Thank you for reading. My take on a story that may not follow along with actual timeline. Details may not be accurate in relation to the story behind Blurryface. ]

When he screams, it’s like pins and needles down Josh’s spine. When Tyler’s face scrunches up and his lungs clench and his vocal chords strain, Josh’s hands twitch against the drumsticks responding to the tempo he sets and his own lungs ache to scream just the same. He is, in part, Tyler Joseph. When their set takes the stage and the audience joins in cadence, he sets his focus on the singer, his jaw set and his body hyperactive and jerking along with  _ their  _ music. Josh lives vicariously through Tyler, strengthened by the other and sturdy when Tyler needs him to be. This shadow cast by the other creates a sort of blanket over Josh, casting him just a step off of the limelight where he’s safe to think and feel and keep as quiet as he likes to be. 

But Tyler knows how to get him talking, and more so than just his comments of agreement or thoughtful propositions to the music they put together. Sometimes Tyler gets Josh to  _ really  _ talk. That wouldn’t be a problem, really, except that Josh doesn’t think he can keep talking before he starts saying things he can’t take back. Josh would prefer to keep in his safe haven, hidden behind his drums with eyes cast over the singer as a sort of protection for Tyler and his reckless antics on the stage. And for when he feels anxious, for when he remembers the noise of the audience crying out their names and blurring their lyrics together in one white noise, he has his constant just within view. The silence. Because when he looks at Tyler, he’s content in the muting of all noise but the dull thud of his drums responding to his hits and the man’s voice. Tyler speaks to the audience...but he also speaks to Josh.

 

Tyler is a jokester, he’s lighthearted and silly. But he’s also sincere, taking time to acknowledge Josh on stage and often mouthing words of encouragement to Josh throughout the set. He’s seen them before, those curved lips telling him  _ keep going!  _ and  _ that’s good!  _ or  _ you good?  _ remind him that he’s existing in the most important eyes-- Tyler’s. He always responds with a nod or shake of his head, his eyes closing and his memory imprinting the image behind his eyelids and his body jumping about with the intensity of their music. 

While he’s amusing in his humor and behavior, Tyler has another side Josh has seen and is all too aware of. He thinks of it more than he sees it from the other, his mind buzzing with thoughts of, “I know Tyler and I  _ know  _ Tyler.” But it’s a two way street, Tyler knows Josh all the same. That’s what happens from the incredible amount of time they spent together. The first (and possibly most monumental) discussion that draws them together is when Tyler first mentions Blurryface. Josh thinks back to that day with a sense of accomplishment, the flashing stage lights of his current surroundings showing the success of the monster that was once crafted in his best friend’s mind. Blurryface.

 

\---

 

“Hey man.” Tyler beckons for Josh’s attention, though perhaps he’s unaware that he always has it. Josh looks busy on his phone, his head cast down and almost hidden over the back of the seat in front of him. Tyler is turned around in the row ahead, a hand on the back of the seat and soft brown eyes set on Josh until the drummer looks up to make eye contact. Josh smiles, but is otherwise unresponsive to the call for his attention. He’s waiting for Tyler to continue, probably with a joke. But Tyler’s mouth doesn’t move, his lips don’t curve out thoughts or ideas or jokes. He’s set on staring down Josh and he suddenly feels antsy and shifts before clearing his throat. At the turning of the van, he finally chimes in.

 

“What’s up, Tyler?” An easy response only shaky by the jolt of the van over a speed bump. Tyler looks over his shoulder towards the windshield and Josh follows suit, seeing them pulling onto the highway from the hotel parking lot. He looks back and eases a breath, almost incrementally leaning towards towards Josh. The drummer, in response, also leans forward. He feels young again, thinking they’re about to slip gossip about someone else.

 

“I want to talk to you about something.”

 

_ Here we go,  _ Josh thinks,  _ a joke about me being out of the band.  _ He almost smirks. Almost. It dies away with the Tyler’s set face.

 

“Blurryface.” Tyler suddenly spills out, looking almost relieved afterwards. Like he’s confiding in the other. Josh’s face scrunches up in reaction.

 

“What?” He responds, clearly not understanding the reference.

 

“It’s...an idea I have.” That’s the first time Tyler’s face drops, if only for a moment. He looks back up, inhaling. “Based off something real.” There is a long pause, once in which Josh does not fill with insightful responses. Tyler continues, appearing unaffected by this (after all, he does know his friend well enough to know how often Josh does speak). “Something...in me.” He gestures to himself and Josh follows the hand before looking back at Tyler. This time, the singer does appear to be waiting for Josh to respond. Dryly swallowing, Josh leaned back.

 

“I don’t follow you, man.” He says, now uneasy just from the topic. Tyler  _ almost  _ looks frustrated, but his face smooths out (probably from realizing his approach to opening up and how it doesn’t make sense). Tyler sighs and turns back around, only enough to still look back at the other for one last comment before turning towards the window he often leans up against.

 

“Give me some time, let me think about how to say this.”

 

\---

 

From a little after eight in the morning until ten that night, Tyler did not say a single word. The entire event had been rather unsettling for Josh and he’s left feeling twitchy by the time they pull into yet another hotel for the night. Josh steps up nonetheless, checking them into their room for the night and picking the bed nearest the window. He sets about his nightly routine, eyes constantly between the task at hand and the shifting Tyler nearby. Finally, the singer sighs loud enough to catch his attention when he’s brushing his teeth. He moves to stand in the doorway of the bathroom, toothbrush in hand and working over his teeth as he gazes upon Tyler sitting on his bed. 

 

Tyler is facing the wall adorned with one photo in a cheap frame, a dull flower reaching towards the blue expanse. His hands are clasped in his lap and he’s sort of tucked over like the exhausting day of the van ride is wearing at him. But he looks restless, his fingers twitching and his toes stretching the material of his shoes as he wiggles them.

 

“He’s like...the worst of me.” Tyler continues the idea like the conversation started only moments ago. Josh keeps up regardless, moving his toothbrush to the other side and brushing softer as to not disrupt the gentle voice of his bandmate. “Blurryface is my...fear. My anger. My sadness.” He exhales, “I want to fight him. I’ve spent my whole life with this character running my choices and my decisions and now I have the tools...and company,” he briefly looks at Josh, “to fight him.”

 

Josh chews on the confession spat at him like venom while dipping back into the bathroom to finish brushing his teeth. He puts his toiletries away, coming back out with the bag in hand. Approaching Tyler, he puts the bag near his suitcase resting on the bed before sitting next to the other. There’s space between them, which Josh wants to fill but he’s conscious of room for Tyler. He thinks that if he sits too close, the other might not breathe. What Tyler’s saying...Josh knows he’s going to respond with more than he’s said all week. But what Tyler is saying, or confessing, is with more detail than Josh has learned all month. He’s grateful to be confided in, although he suddenly feels incapable in terms of  _ helping  _ Tyler.

 

“How?” Okay. So it’s not quite the worded response he’s expecting to leave his mouth, but there’s a sudden numbness filling his head and he looks away and towards the photo before them. Standing closer, he realizes it’s not a flower but a crooked bird in flight. The colorful flight looks more significant up close, Josh thinks. He glances back at Tyler, feeling all the same for the features of his friend. He can see at this proximity that the topic drives stakes into Tyler, his face twitching in thought and perhaps emotional response. Josh’s jaw sets and he turns enough for his knee to nudge Tyler’s. “How do  _ we  _ fight Blurryface?” There. That’s what they  _ both  _ need to hear. Tyler looks over, looking relieved to hear that response added onto the first one.

 

“I don’t,” he cuts off, looking from Josh to the space between them. He takes another breath. “I could sing, I guess. I mean,” his eyebrows tug together, thoughtful, but his gaze doesn’t lift back up to Josh. “Music...can be...you know?” He exhales, finally looking up. Josh nods, hesitating before moving a hand to Tyler’s shoulder.

 

“Yeah. I know.” 

 

“Thanks.” Tyler breathes out.

 

“For?” Josh doesn’t mean to prompt but he’s not sure what the other is thanking him for. He’s only doing what Tyler would do for him.

 

“Being patient.” Tyler finishes and Josh nods his head, squeezing the others shoulder before withdrawing his hand.

 

“We should probably get some sleep.” Josh concludes, eyeing his bed before moving to stand up.

  
“Yeah. Okay.” Tyler responds, standing up only after a moment of gazing up at Josh.


	2. It Will Never Happen Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I know what that means, I know."

When Tyler looks at Josh on stage, his world is hyper-focused in the moment. He feels the others gaze beyond the veil of the performance. Tyler isn’t looking at his drummer, he’s looking at how Josh is doing. And when Josh looks back, he’s alive. He exists for but a moment in the singer’s eyes. He cannot entertain the idea of existing for longer than that, feeling his role being temporary but essential for Tyler. When Josh feels compelled to lift from his seat, standing and facing the crowd, he’s a warrior. That’s the paint on his eyes, warpaint. He wears it proudly, the red running in the sweat beading from his forehead. He stares like he’d stare down an enemy, wrist flicking the drumstick down over the snare but his mind elsewhere. He looks out over the ocean, the endless body of followers, and he does not think he can continue to stare before they notice. That’s when the other drumstick lifts, a signature move of Josh Dun as he puts it over his face. Like a sword, a symbol of protection. But it’s a child’s blanket, a comfort thing. And Tyler sees that. Tyler knows that.

\---

In the morning, Josh wakes up with a hazy look turned towards the photo at the foot of his bed. It hangs on the wall like a lifeless idea, a neglected dream. From his sleep induced sighting, the photo again looks like the flower he spotted last night. He squints, seeing the bird come into view. It’s facing towards Tyler’s bed, somehow drawing a line between the detail that is Josh squinting to see it better. He turns his head, curly hair tangled over the pillow, to see the other still dead asleep. That’s when Josh realizes how relaxed Tyler is when he’s unconscious. When he wakes...well. It looks like he shoulders the burdens of the world for yet another day. Josh exhales weakly, wishing he wasn’t so transparent so that he might appear there enough to help Tyler. He moves to sit up, the bed creaking enough to stir the singer from his rest.

“Morning.” Josh greets sleepily, finally rubbing his eyes before scratching his head. He watches Tyler turn to his back with a groan, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. Ah, there it is. Tyler sits up with a sort of hunch that Josh is familiar with and his own shoulders drop in defeat.

“Time?” Because his alarm clock is facing him but apparently Tyler cannot be bothered to look for himself. Josh obeys without a second thought, checking his own clock.

“Quarter ‘til seven.” He announces, seeing Tyler fall back in response. He smiles at that, feeling like maybe their chat from last night didn’t carry over to this morning.

“I keep having the same dream.” Tyler starts to say and Josh catches his thought before it can be completed, realizing a moment too late he’s been holding his breath. Tyler’s watching him and he looks down to watch his shirt fall with the suddenly released breath. “It’s really dark and quiet. Well, maybe not completely dark or quiet. It’s more like the dark you’d get out in the countryside. You know? But there’s this bright light coming down from the sky. It’s bright...but not big. And I’m walking towards it and it’s a microphone.” He trails off, staring up at the ceiling.

Josh is staring. He can’t look away. He doesn’t know why. The confession makes him feel like Tyler’s put a string around his heart and now is tugging it in acknowledgement of how it makes Josh feel. Alive. Visible. His heart is pounding harder than the bass drum that his foot is twitching to kick.

“I sing into it. Well, I think I do. I don’t know what I’m singing...or saying. Really. But...it’s significant. I’m being given a voice and I only have to use it.” Tyler looks over at Josh and they both realize that the drummer has no intention of looking away. “Sorry.” Tyler apologizes rather suddenly, making the entire transaction all the more tense.

“Ah-” Josh starts, trying to speak quicker. Words don’t come to him like they do Tyler. He needs time, he needs time to figure out how he wants to respond and how he wants to convey what he feels but Tyler is already out of bed and the bathroom door clicks shut before the shower is running. Josh can only fall back into bed, hands pressing hard against his face to muffle the groan underneath. 

\---

Breakfast is always an ordeal. Not because of the limited time to eat before they need to be on the road again and not because they’re getting to be pretty familiar and that only prolongs the entire event. Breakfast is always an ordeal because they band-mates love breakfast. Of course, neither could be known for being on time for it. In fact, if asked what their favorite lunch meal was, it’d be anything that was supposed to be for breakfast. Needless to say, the continental breakfast the hotel provided has to do when they’re supposed to be on the road by nine.

Josh already has everything he needs down in the lobby by the time Tyler joins them. As they aren’t performing that same day, Josh didn’t pay much mind to his hair (when did he ever) and instead went for some comfortable pants and a regular shirt for another day of traveling. Tyler apparently had the same idea, aside from looking like he had seen a shower in the past week. With his luggage in the corner, Josh finds a table nearby their stuff and settles down with a plate of waffles and a yogurt. It isn’t until Tyler joins him that he begins to eat. Almost immediately, it’s obvious something is wrong on his end. He doesn’t eat with the same time crunch determination he usually has. In fact, he’s picking at his food.

“Tyler.” Josh announces, catching himself off guard. He supposes he can’t go back now. Glancing up, the other is staring at him intensely and he swallows before glancing back at the soaking waffles. “I can’t...I don’t always say what I mean to say. Especially not on time.” He smirks, “in fact, what I mean to say usually comes to me after…” He trails off, adamant about staying on topic long enough to get his thoughts across. “I just...think I’m not always good at responding to you.”

“I know.” Tyler cuts in, freezing Josh’s tongue in his mouth. He looks up, somewhat reassured that the other does understand where he’s coming from. 

“Even with interviews and...well, the crowd. You know how I get.”

“I know.” He repeats, this time with a softer tone and a gentle nod of his head. Josh almost grabs at the pounding organ in his chest to halt its movement before it bursts through his shirt.

“I guess I’m trying to tell you...after all you’ve told me, so that we’re on the same page.” So that we’re even. An eye for an eye. “But what I’m trying to get at is, well.” He can feel his mind grasping for anything to go on, but he’s running out of words to fill a space. His shoulders dip a bit and he takes a small bite of waffle to try and take a moment to think. Tyler appears unaffected, still steadily eyeing him down. Josh wants to get up, to get into the van and curl into the seat for a few more blissful hours of sleep. Maybe he’ll know what to say when he wakes again.

Actually...that’s not a bad idea. Swallowing, his shoulders lift and he looks up with a short burst of confidence.

“Give me some time, okay? I know what I want to say, I just...need a minute.” A few hours is what he means but Tyler catches the similar response to his own and takes immediate respect to it by finally looking down at his plate. They finish eating in silence, Josh doing so with newfound determination to finish quickly.

\---

It’s midnight. He only knows because he’s been playing Angry Birds on his phone for the past hour and it finally dies just a second before he sees the time. Ejected back into the real world, Josh props up from his reclining position in the van, finding a multitude of sore spots and trying to stretch them out. Tyler’s asleep on the seat in front of him, curled into his jacket and snoring with a sort of intensity that makes Josh’s eyes go wide. He looks into the rear-view mirror, seeing the driver grinning and glancing back at him. That’s when it hits him, he knows what he wants to say.

Josh leans over the seat before him, face close to Tyler’s. His hand is over the seat too, only because he intends to shake the singer awake, but Tyler’s eyes open on cue and stare up at the face questionably close. The sudden shake of the van lurches him forward and he’s caught off guard when their lips crash together. With a sudden inhale, practically choking on Tyler, Josh falls back into his own seat and immediately curls into his own jacket. His eyes clench shut, his face on fire and his lips tingling and alive. That’s not what he had in mind, that’s not what he meant. His face feels like it’s going to pop off his neck and he can’t bare to glance at the driver again.

“Josh.” That voice. Soft, still sleepy, and obviously from a face turned towards his crumpled position in the rear seat. He only tucks in further, thinking it’d hide the monumental amounts of shame he feels. This response seems to shut Tyler away as he doesn’t hear any follow-up to his name. That relaxes Josh a bit and he starts over in his head, reluctantly playing the scene over and over in his head until he’s quietly hyperventilating to keep up with his pounding heart. 

\---

“So how did you two meet?” 

The interviewer that interrogates them prior to their show tonight asks the question everyone’s been asking. It’s only the second question of the interview, though, and that’s usually the one Josh takes. After all, they tend to switch off when interviewing. His mouth opens, but there aren’t words to fill the space left for him to answer in. With the cameras on him, the microphone shaking in his hand, Josh turns to the only person he can trust. But his eyes aren’t even on Tyler before the others taking up the slack he’s left behind, crafting a beautiful and false response for the interview with a charming smirk that makes Josh smile. 

He thinks, just maybe, he doesn’t have to explain himself. Maybe Tyler understands.


	3. Fun to Fantasize

The stage is enlightened by a red glow, just like the glow in the later part of Tyler’s dreams, the ones in his height of composition for Blurryface. In the center hangs the lone light, glowing like a sprite leading the wanderer home. Tyler moves gracefully, jumping and running with a motion that Josh can only hope to imitate. But he is only mortal, he is only the drummer. This revelation doesn’t drag him down. In fact, quite the opposite. He’s in the role he wishes to live in, his body positively static to be doing something he enjoys so much. His eyes are closed, each drum positioned in a way that his muscle memory can work with and his small lifted stage stays sturdy to his own jerky movements until the weight of the other hops on the side to reach the dangling microphone. Josh looks up, mortal to God, stained eyes seeking a higher power to believe in. Through the pieces stuffed in his ears, he hears the others voice clear as day-- perhaps more so than when he listens to Tyler off stage. 

\---

“You kissed me.” 

Tyler’s version of good morning is, for some reason, not as favorable as it used to be. Josh tucks further into his pillow, hoping he’s still dreaming.

“Was an accident.” He mutters in response, only offering resolution to his dream so he could wake to a different reality. In the few hours he did sleep in the considerably more uncomfortable hotel bed, it wasn’t without constantly tossing and turning like someone left his body on a ship during a violent storm. 

“I don’t believe you.”

That fires Josh up, jerking him up from the comforts of his blankets and spinning him around to snap a response to Tyler. It was an accident! He’d yell, hoping only to show a portion of intensity that Tyler reflects when yelling on stage.

Through the tiny slit between the curtains in their hotel room, the sunrise draws a warm orange glow over the white sheets tucked tightly around the still asleep Tyler. Josh huffs a breath, somewhat relieved that he knew he was dreaming. Unable to lie back down, he leans up against the headboard and rubs his eyes. That’s what he gets for sleeping for so long on the van after their last concert. Though that has him wondering how Tyler is managing it, having slept just as long as he did on the van.

As if on cue, Tyler jerks suddenly and mutters something before turning over in his sleep. Josh watches, somewhat captivated by the movements of the other. He thinks back to Tyler on stage, seeing similar actions with how the other twitches and jerks. 

“N-” Tyler mutters, almost making Josh smile before the singer jerks more violently. “N-ah!” 

Somewhere in the process of leaving his bed, Josh leaves his mind behind. His body moves like a guardian, seeing the incident happening before it actually happens.Tyler’s rolling over the edge of the bed, the tangle of the blankets making it seem like his head would hit first. Josh’s arms sweep out, acting as a surface when the upper half of Tyler leaves the bed. He lifts, stopping the directional motion Tyler’s body had in mind and reversing it to return the singer to his mattress.

Tyler wakes with the commotion, jolting violently and throwing himself up in bed before jerking away from Josh. 

“Sh-oh!” His face shows a mix of emotions, ranging from horror to comfort. “Josh. You scared me.” Josh puts his hands up to mean well, already stepping back towards his bed before any questions can come. “What’re you doing out of bed?”  
“You almost fell.” He answers honestly, taking a good guess that Tyler wouldn’t stop having questions at that.

“You were watching?” A silence falls between them as Josh sits back in his bed.

“I woke up,” from a bad dream, he finishes quietly.

“Oh.” Unconvinced. “Did I wake you?”

“Were you having a bad dream?” He switches target the moment the opportunity arises, hands falling into his lap. Tyler only nods his head before relaxing back into his pillows. Josh follows suit in his own bed, seeing them lying there in a sort of view from the ceiling. Distanced...but so close.

“I had a dream that…” Tyler trails off, looking over at Josh. Is he looking for permission to continue? Josh looks back, staring quietly for a moment before nodding his head for Tyler to continue. “That this...faceless figure took me over. I was lying right here, right where I am now. Well, my body was. I was watching from the side of the bed.” He looks over to the far side of the bed, as if he’d find himself still there. “And I was watching this...just...pure black seep into my body and control me.” From there, Josh knows it’s his turn to speak. But, unlike before, he’s more prepared this time.

“Why didn’t you fight it?” He asks softly, turning his body to face towards Tyler’s position in the bed next to him.

“Because I couldn’t move.” He answers so fast that Josh realizes the amount of fear Tyler felt over his dream. “I couldn’t move and it...he...was laughing. He had complete control. I let my fear trap me in place.” Josh bites his lip, chewing it in thought before inhaling.

“Where’s your book?” The thick and tattered pages of Tyler’s lyrical book might come to use, Josh thinks. Or, if nothing else, he’s just trying to help.

“Suitcase. That’s...a good idea, Josh. I should write this down. Maybe there’s something to come of it.” Tyler makes to get back up but Josh is already out of bed and riffling through the others belongings until he turns up the notebook and a pen. Moving to Tyler’s bed, he holds the items out and tries not to think about the fingers brushing his as they’re taken from his grasp. A strange burst of confidence has him turning Tyler’s light on for him (catching a groan from Tyler in the process) before he sits at the edge of bed.

Tyler looks skeptical at first but props up enough to open his notebook and scribble in the general dream. Josh knows the process, he knows the book like the back of his hand. That comes from this being done so many times before. And like the times before, he pulls his legs up Indian style before lightly tapping his fingers over the inside of his knees. There’s always a rhythm just a touch away, all like static electricity in the air until Tyler directs a place for it to go.

Tyler hums something to himself before working a few phrases under his breath, Josh’s ears straining to hear them after the sustained damage from playing his loud instruments for so long.

“My name’s Blurryface,” he repeats a bit louder, Josh’s ears almost popping from the strain to sudden relaxation. “And I care what you think.” He watches the other scribble those words down, his fingers tapping along to the cadence of Tyler’s voice.

“Why?” He asks, almost childlike. He knows better than to prod Tyler when he’s still in the drafting stage, but the statement seems weird. “He...It hurts you, doesn’t it? Why would it care what you think?”

“He.” Tyler agrees to the pronoun, looking up without the usual frustrated glance to Josh’s eager pestering. “He doesn’t care what I think. He cares what you think.” And that makes Josh sit taller, appearing concerned. Tyler appeared to take note, glancing away. “What they think. He’s my fear, yeah?” A quick glance at Josh, “so of course he cares too much. He cares too much about everything. About everyone.” 

Josh’s chest aches. He wants to go lie back down. Instead, he perseveres by drumming with more enthusiasm, thinking he’s doing some good. He’s got Tyler thinking aloud, anyways. Josh watches the other groan and rub his face before nuzzling back into the pillows. Tyler starts doodling and Josh watches purely out of curiosity when he cannot recognize the symbols Tyler is drawing up. When the other starts glancing between the pages and him, he realizes he’s overstaying his welcome and moves to get up.

“Wait.” Tyler reaches out, his book closing as his hand instead catches Josh’s bicep. The drummer halts in his movements, looking down at the hand. “You kissed me.” Tyler insists, making Josh think maybe he hadn’t been dreaming. He looks at the other, not feeling the anger from early that made him want to scream. This Tyler understood. Right?

“It was an accident.” He tries again, somewhat unsure of his answer this time. 

“You accidentally leaned over the seat and kissed me?” Tyler responds, looking a little frustrated. Josh shakes his head in response.

“No. I leaned over because…” Josh trails off, remembering why he had originally leaned over. “I was trying to wake you to finish what I was saying...uh, that morning. Over breakfast.” He swallows dryly but Tyler looks convinced and lets go of his bicep. The lack of response tells him to continue. “You’re important to me,” and this timing sucks, what with the kiss and all. “I...care about you. So...let me help you fight Blurryface.” It’s almost a question, almost. “And you’ll help me with the crowd. Let me just be...the drummer, you know? Not in the foreground.”   
Tyler smiles, showing to be on board with the idea although he nods his head in addition. 

“Okay.” Is the word agreed upon, all prior issues resolved if only for the time being. Josh exhales in relief, smiling in response. “But I owe you.” Tyler adds and Josh tries to compare his anxiety to the situation of Blurryface. Maybe Blurryface is bigger than his own insecurities, maybe Blurryface goes beyond Tyler’s weaknesses. But then, he realizes, that’s not what Tyler’s talking about at all.

Because Tyler leans forward and kisses him back.


	4. Catch my Breath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Enjoying this fic so far? Fantastic! More to come. ]

When Tyler finds a way to upset nearly every security guard and stage director, usually by climbing on what he’s not allowed to climb on, aforementioned security guard and stage director come up with the plan to build him little podiums about the stage for him to jump around on. This, in turn, curbs his appetite to climb up scaffolding supporting the stage lights. This, however, does not stop Tyler from climbing into the crowd’s hands. Josh’s concern lies only in the knowledge that, if anyone slipped up, his singer might fall. Even with a security guard frustratingly holding the singer by the back of his pants, as if pulling him back could stop anyone from being hurt should he fall, Josh still had a degree of concern for when Tyler takes off from the stage and into the crowd.

He’s supposed to follow suit. Well, not supposed to. There’s two drums set up among the crowd and they’re taking a little inspiration from their time with Vessel and heading into the audience for their drum break. The audience is in control, Tyler’s voice reminds Josh. But he knows the power of this and he respects and fears the crowd as much as anyone. They thought to back off with Josh’s confession of audience interaction, but Josh also knew how this set made them both feel. The crowd...their screams...they are so excited at the prospect of this performance that Josh is lulled out from his drumset. When he stands on the stage, exposed for the world, he feels he’s interrupting the strands of Tyler’s energy. The singer moves with determination to paint the stage with himself, leaving Tyler in every crevice for the janitorial staff to pick up after. Josh stands among it, exposed but supported. He grins, blurring eyes from the crowd and focusing on the singer already positioned. Tyler’s smiling and looking back at him, offering a hand for encouragement to join him with their fans. 

\---

“Are you crazy?” Josh shouts over the screaming of the audience despite it fading away as they make their way off stage. He waits, however, until their out of view before he grabs Tyler by the shoulders. “You’re being reckless!” And Josh is talking far more than he means to, thinking even less before he does so. “You can’t...climb shit and expect people not to worry! You know how high you just were?” He shakes his head, letting go of the other. 

“Josh, I--”

“No. No.” He holds up his hands, his head shaking and his gaze cast down. “Don’t.” Because Tyler has a way with words and Josh already feels guilty enough for snapping at his best friend but he’s walking away before the other has a chance to console his worries and bring out the underlying issue-- how much Josh worries for Tyler on stage.

He manages to avoid Tyler for the rest of the evening until they retreat to the van, finding their driver rather exhausted and suggesting a hotel for the night.

“I don’t know,” Tyler starts, looking between the driver and Josh and not earning a glance back from the latter. “If we get a room, we have to leave it just a few hours later to make it to our next show. I think we should just get going now.” A small pause, “I could drive. You should probably get some rest anyways. I’m still a little fired up after the show.” Or what happened after the show, Josh adds to Tyler’s words silently. The driver agrees to Tyler’s words and moves to open the side van door before hopping into the singer’s row. Josh moves to climb in behind him, prepared to take his usual seat, but Tyler interjects with the entirety of his body. They almost crash together, save for Josh’s quick reflexes pulling him back with a darting look towards Tyler’s eyes. “Come on, man.” He almost sounds exasperated. “Sit up front with me.” And because Josh doesn’t look convinced, “please?”

Huffing a breath, Josh nods his head shortly and instead takes the passenger seat while Tyler circled around the front of the van. He watches the other up until the driver door opens, then looking out his own window. He supposes, for the sake of Tyler staying awake, it’s good that he’s sitting up front. But he’s aware of the man’s diligence in solving issues before they really become issues, that was something Josh admired about Tyler. During the time it took to pack up, Josh came up with his answers to the questions he hoped would be the ones asked.

But Tyler didn’t ask them, at least not right away. He followed Tyler’s occasional glances back, gathering that he was waiting for their driver to be out before discussing Josh’s outburst. Josh thinks in that time, realizing that he’s almost always out of control when around the other. That doesn’t ever bother him, really. He enjoys Tyler taking lead. 

“When I was little, my brother fell out of our neighbor’s tree house. I was outside when it happened, walking home from the music store. I heard him fall, I didn’t see it.” A short pause, one accompanied by Tyler switching lanes before glancing over at the drummer. “He was okay, of course. Leg was broken but he took it better than I did. I should have been there. I should have watched him better.” Mom was so upset, but some details didn’t need to be voiced. Josh watches the highway lights pass by, the glare of each piercing through the windshield and pulling the van along to the next light and the next.

“I’m sorry.” Tyler responds but Josh waves it away. People apologize but it never goes anywhere, Josh knows that. Tyler saying sorry couldn't pull his brother back up the tree and aid to his leg. “No, I mean, I’m sorry that I frightened you on the stage.” Tyler elaborates, getting Josh to look over. They make eye contact before Tyler looks back at the road. Josh doesn’t respond for a minute, just watching the other. 

“Just give me some kind of warning next time.” He finishes with a sigh, pushing his back into the seat behind him and bringing his legs up against the glove compartment for an improvised sleeping position. He sleeps better than expected, the lull of the van on the road becoming very familiar to him.

\---

“Wow!” The exclamation is followed by a short string of curses with accompanies the jolt of the van suddenly yanking towards the right. Josh drops his legs and sits tall, blinking hard to figure out what happened. Both men looked over to see a semi weaving between lanes before getting control of itself. Tyler exhales sharply and Josh looks over to see how tensely the other is in reaction to the vehicle swerving into their lane. Tyler glances over when Josh supposes his gaze starts to burn a hole in the other, forcing a smile to try and release some of the sudden stress. “Stay in your lane, am I right?” He chuckled out tightly, the joke forced and unsettling to Josh. 

“Yeah, stay in your lane, boy.” Josh agrees, forcing a smile. He glances back to see the driver only turned over and into the crease of the seat during the event. Looking back, he reaches over and rests a hand on Tyler’s shoulder. Almost immediately, the muscle underneath releases the coils of panic and Josh watches Tyler physically soothe from the touch.

\---

This show is going really well, Josh thinks. Aside from a few hiccups at the beginning on working out the volume of their audio in comparison to the volume of his drums, the rest is going smoothly. Tyler’s got the crowd on the tips of their toes, all vibrant with an energy of fellow companionship. Josh smiles into his set, bouncing through the beat. When he opens his eyes, he sees that Tyler’s glancing back at him. He gaves a small nod of his head, his lips parted and his microphone near his chin. Josh keeps his face neutral, a skill learned when knowing at least one audience member is well engaged in seeing the micro-reactions of him towards Tyler. The other is asking for permission, he realizes with a degree of amazement. Tyler wants me to okay him climbing? Josh briefly glances around, despite having the entirety of the stage already memorized in his head. One last scan for security purposes before looking back and he nods his head to approve before looking back down at his drums. He tries to focus harder, although that only makes his hands want to shake and recoil a hit too quickly but he knows he’ll fall behind if he’s watching the other. So instead he picks a middle of doing both, occasionally looking at Tyler and trying not to gasp when he finds the other at the top of the lighting booth at the back of the stage. How did he…? 

Who was Josh to figure out how Tyler managed all he did?


	5. I'm Trying to Sleep

When they play Goner for the crowd, Josh feels transcended to another realm. He feels, in part, the audience. After all, Tyler is the one who puts on the show. Eyes are on Tyler as he takes to the piano and eyes water when the strange singer’s voice cracks-- Josh among them. They cry, perhaps, because they know the story Tyler is telling and they know that the other is fighting for ground. The drummer responds similar but for another reason, he responds because he cannot hear the song without recalling the first time he heard it.

The stage dims, the audience undulating with each chord. But when Tyler screams, when Tyler cries out for their attention and for their help, Josh feels like he is out of air and he’s counting down the seconds until he falls off his lifted podium and onto the hard stage below-- just like Tyler does during their first song. Josh thinks it’d be ironic, really. Their show would come full circle with each band mate falling at the beginning and then at the end. Only his wouldn’t be scripted, wouldn’t be something anyone was expecting. And, of course, he’d theoretically fall further. So he stays put, continuing with his one job.

And he falls only in his mind. He falls for Tyler.

\---

Tyler has gone two whole days without saying a word to Josh. Josh doesn’t push him, of course. He’s aware of needing some space and quiet, but he’s not aware of Tyler needing that. He should be more concerned but he pins it on the others focus with writing the new music for Blurryface, the monster he suggests is real. The other works over his journal like he’s in trouble if he doesn’t get ideas down quick enough and Josh spends the time relaxing on his own bed with the company of Tyler randomly muttering short lyrics or strumming some atonal chord on his ukulele, likely one that makes Josh cringe and turn over.

He tries to be quiet when he is up, trying not to bother Tyler. But even Josh can only go so far before having to make some sort of noise. The first is on his practice pad, the taps of his drumsticks fluttering over the cramped bedroom like butterflies with their wings hitting either wall. No space to breathe. He thinks he should open a window but then Tyler’s thoughts might escape. Maybe it doesn’t actually work that way, but it’s enough to keep Josh from being too rowdy. The first time he tries to speak to the other, he’s at the door to Tyler’s room.

“You should eat.” Josh, the protector, the guardian. The appointed parent while Tyler, the one neglecting basic human needs, scribbles in his little journal.

“Mm.” Tyler responds rather shortly, not even bothering to look up. Josh makes a face and leaves. His journey to the kitchen isn’t without it’s pitstops. He visits with Tyler’s mom, assuring he that he’s doing fine and just composing. He promises that, yes, he will make sure Tyler eats something. Josh prepares two PB&J sandwiches, hauling them back to the bedroom but not making it two steps in before he drops the plate to clatter on the ground. The sickening thud is accompanied by his stomach as he watches a thick black marker taken to Tyler’s walls. Josh thinks, his mom is going to be pissed. Then Josh thinks, what do the symbols mean?

He should go home, visit with his own family, but something keeps him around. Tyler assures him he’s making good progress around midnight, his eyes looking bloodshot and his movements obviously indicating how sore he was getting from leaning over his journal. Josh tries to urge him to sleep, thinking he might get a few hours himself on his sleeping bag. Tyler doesn’t hear of it, refusing to even move but two feet over so Josh could have his sleeping bag. Josh gives up, just taking Tyler’s bed to sleep in. That goes pretty well up until about three in the morning, when he wakes up to Tyler screaming. At this point in their career, it shouldn’t surprise Josh. But it’s not the scream for the public. Not the cry for attention. He jerks up so fast that he hits the person leaning over him, finding that Tyler is, in fact, screaming at him.

This should have been Josh’s second indicator that leaving Tyler to his own devices was a horrible idea. Keeping the awoken family at bay at the bedroom door (which was closed and, apparently, locked), Josh had to console them before even starting on Tyler. 

“What’s going on, man?” He finally gets in a word for the singer, Tyler now crouched in the corner with his ukulele tight to his chest. He plucks away absentmindedly, staring at Josh’s sleeping bag like there’s a spider inside. Tyler doesn’t respond. This time, though, Josh takes it upon himself to sit next to the other, leaning up against the wall with his legs crossed indian style. He falls back asleep that way, with his head tipped back and his mouth hanging open. The next time he wakes, Tyler looks like he’s had a shower and is ready for the day. To do what, Josh doesn’t know.

“Let’s go on a walk.” Tyler suggests, looming over Josh. Josh stares up, squinting from the sudden light in the room as it appeared Tyler had opened the curtains. 

“What?” He responds, earning a huff from Tyler.

“A walk. Can you hear me okay?” 

“A walk.” Josh responds, looking slowly over himself. “I need...a shower...and new clothes...and breakfast. And you want to go on a walk.” He doesn’t sound frustrated or sleepy. He’s just stating the facts.

“Yes.”

So Josh complies, taking to the streets with an outrageous red mess atop his head and very wrinkled clothes. His hands are shoved into the pockets of his jeans and he keeps his gaze cast down, stepping over the cracks on the sidewalk.

“What’s on your mind?” He tries to prompt, looking over at Tyler. In response, Tyler huffs a breath and looks up towards the sun that’s fighting large puffy clouds for room to shine.

“I’m sorry for giving you the cold shoulder.” He glances over, but only briefly.

“It’s okay.” Josh responds, although not telling the full truth in saying that. “You’re doing what you have to.” He needs to focus, it’s okay. Right?

“It’s really hard to...write about it.” He confesses, his gaze falling and reminding Josh of the noise that woke him at three in the morning.

“Could you answer one thing for me?” Josh asks, his voice tight.

“Sure.” Tyler responds after a moment long enough to make Josh change his mind. Why Tyler screamed at him didn’t matter anymore.

“Will you tell me if you go too far? Will you let me know if it’s getting too hard to write?”

Tyler doesn’t respond, not for a good little while. Josh can almost watch his questions drift off behind them, lost with time. He huffs a breath, looking back forward and trying to move his mind forward all the same.

\---

“You stink.” Tyler observes loudly enough to rouse Josh from a light sleep. He groans in response, rubbing his face.

“What’s the time, Tyler?” Because he thinks he’s had it up to here and he’s about to throw a fit if it is another terrible hour in the morning.

“Eight.”

“AM?”

“Yeah.”

“Then I’m going to shower.” He lifts himself up, kicking out of his sleeping bag and moving his torso this way and that to try and ease the ache from sleeping on the ground. Standing, he approaches the door but freezes to look back.

“Don’t go anywhere.” Josh announces, or demands, with a finger jabbing towards Tyler before he dips out to take a shower.

The process goes as smoothly as one can imagine a shower to go. Josh sets the water warm enough to wake him up from what was only a few hours of sleep and he blinks hard to discern that the room is fogging from the steam and not from his sleep deprived vision. He’s been through worse, honestly. Drives between states and back to back performances. This shouldn’t eat away at him, but it does. He’s just too worried. Josh shuts off the shower, pulling back the curtain but not enough to completely expose himself when he realizes Tyler’s in the bathroom and sitting on the counter. 

“Sh-hey!” Josh shouts, clearly startled and jumping in reaction. “What’re you doing in here?” Tyler hops up in response, eyes still on the open journal in his hand while another reached towards Josh to deliver a clean towel. Josh reaches out to grab it, dipping behind the curtain to dry himself off. He steps out with it around his waist, his free hand brushing long red strands from his eyes. “What are you doing in here, Ty?” Josh repeats, his gaze set.

Tyler only seems to shrug in response, almost making Josh groan. He turns away nonetheless, surprised to see his old clothes replaced with random and mismatched articles that he had left at Tyler’s house from previous nights over. He gratefully pulls those clothes on instead, turning back and taking a step closer.

“You hungry?” Josh asks, earning a shrug from Tyler before he nods his head. Josh almost smiles, taking the small victory and running with it. He pulls open the bathroom door and finds himself with a shadow trailing along on the way down to the kitchen. Putting together two bowls of cereal, Josh places them at the dining table and stands there a moment before noticing that Tyler’s not joining him. Approaching the other in the doorway, Josh guides him with a hand to his back until he sits at the table. He does the same, hands courageously taking the book from Tyler’s hand. The singer gives it up, staring down in surprise to see food instead. Josh respectfully closes the book, setting it down before starting in on his own breakfast. Tyler seems to take up the cue, joining him with a vigorous hunger that makes Josh laugh. Tyler looks over in surprise before joining along, trying to laugh with a mouthful of cereal. There he is. The Tyler that Josh knows. He breathes in relief, realizing a moment later that his heart had been pounding through the whole unvoiced struggle.

\---

“I’m a goner,” Tyler’s midway through this draft of a song, Josh guesses. He’s been tapping along with fingers on his thigh, working out ideas for his end of the song. He’s lulled along, eyes closed and ears following the grace of Tyler’s voice. And then it happens again, another scream. It’s so sudden, such a switch from the voice that portrays giving up. Panic? A cry of attention? Josh jumps either way, eyes wide and on Tyler. The other seems in a trance, staring past Josh and swaying side to side like his music is his lifeline. Josh’s hands are frozen on his thighs and he’s not breathing for fear of taking any air Tyler needs to sing. The other stops, seeming to snap back to reality with eyes focused on Josh. He stops singing suddenly, looking to weigh judgement on why Josh is staring so intensely  
“Did I scare you?” Tyler asks, eyebrows pulling together. Josh slowly moves his head side to side, appearing to say no. “Are you okay?” Tyler continues to prod, scooting forward slightly. Josh slowly bobs his head up and down to indicate yes. Tyler seems at a loss on what else to ask, just staring back. 

“Are you okay?” Josh asks after what had become a few minutes of silence. That makes Tyler look away, his head dipping down. His shoulders lift in response, making Josh’s shoulders fall. “Tyler…” Josh didn’t know what to say. How could he console the other? Was it okay, what Tyler was singing? How would the crowd react?


End file.
